Just as Professor Horace announced the start of the dance, Patrick took advantage of the chaos to slip through the crowd and make his way to the other side of the hall.
At a slightly secluded round table sat two young women—both with golden hair, their features faintly resembling each other.
"May I have this dance, my lady?" Patrick asked first, bowing slightly to the older of the two and extending his hand.
She looked startled. It was her younger sister who reacted first, gently nudging her forward.
Daphne stumbled slightly as she was pulled to her feet. Then, hand in hand, they walked toward the very center of the stage.
...
"Jon… Jon…" Daphne stammered as she danced stiffly, like a puppet. "Why… why did you invite me… Astoria should…"
"No questions yet!" Christopher said sternly. "How did you two end up here?"
Hearing that familiar tone, Daphne felt herself relax a little.
"Professor Slughorn invited us…" she replied quickly. "He invited Astoria and me. We couldn't really refuse…"
"Slughorn again…" His expression turned noticeably serious.
"What's wrong, Jon?" Daphne asked with concern. "Is there something wrong with the Potions professor?"
"That's not something you need to worry about." Unlike his usual self, he shook his head gravely.
Daphne froze, then lowered her voice as if she had done something wrong.
"Has something happened, Jon…? I just saw Professor Dumbledore leaving the school in a hurry…"
Her voice grew softer and softer.
"Yes. There will be an incident at Hogwarts shortly," Christopher said solemnly. "I can't tell you any more than that. In fact, you being here was already a serious mistake. Don't leave just yet. When the disturbance begins, take your sister and run immediately. Head for the upper levels of the castle—don't go to the Slytherin common room."
Daphne looked visibly shaken.
After a moment, she nodded. "All right… I understand… I'll protect Astoria…"
"Be extremely careful."
With that final warning, Christopher led Daphne to a nearby beer table.
As he poured two mugs of beer, he raised his voice deliberately.
"I must say, Miss Greengrass, you look absolutely charming tonight…"
Daphne quickly put on a shy expression and lowered her head.
At the same time, someone who had clearly run out of patience hurried over at remarkable speed.
"Sorry, Greengrass!" Malfoy said anxiously. "May I speak with Christopher?"
...
"Of course," Christopher replied, returning to his refined, courteous expression as he nodded. "Beautiful Miss Greengrass, would you kindly give us a moment?"
"Certainly… What a delightful evening," Daphne said with a smile. "I look forward to dancing with you again, Mr. Patrick."
Watching Daphne walk away, Malfoy let out a visible sigh of relief.
He grabbed Christopher's hand, his face full of gratitude.
"Christopher… it was you… you were the one who rescued my father… from Azkaban… wasn't it…"
"Calm down, Draco." Christopher shook off his hand. "It was nothing more than a small favor."
"Thank you, Christopher… Do you know how important Father is to me…" Malfoy said hurriedly.
"You may not fully understand the situation, Draco," Christopher replied unhurriedly. "You and your father are no longer on the same path."
"Not… walking the same path?" Draco froze.
"But—"
The poor boy tried to step forward, only to be stopped by Christopher's gaze.
"I gave you advice once, Draco." Christopher shook his head with regret. "Unfortunately… you made the wrong choice."
Before Draco could speak, he continued,
"So now I can only offer you one more piece of advice… Tell them everything you know. Leave nothing out…"
Before Draco could even react, Christopher had vanished without a trace.
Draco remained standing there, staring blankly.
...
After leaving Draco, Christopher approached a beautiful Ravenclaw student, clearly intending to invite her to dance.
But just as he was about to succeed, three people surrounded him.
"It seems I have other guests to attend to. Would you mind waiting a moment, Miss Poppins?" Christopher said gently to the girl.
Once the Ravenclaw student had left, the three wasted no time pressing him with their questions.
"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked in a low voice.
"Christopher, what's your connection to the escaped prisoner Gellert Grindelwald?" Harry's question was far more direct.
"The attack on the Order of the Phoenix—it was connected to you, wasn't it?" Ron looked as if he might lunge at him at any second.
"My apologies," Christopher replied calmly. "Would you mind if I answered your questions one at a time?"
"First, Miss Granger's question—why am I here?" He smiled and shook his head. "Isn't it obvious? I merely accompanied my Headmaster to this gathering."
Harry and Ron both looked utterly unconvinced. Hermione frowned, clearly thinking.
"As for your other two questions, I have no intention of answering them," Christopher continued. "However, I can offer you a small prophecy."
As he spoke, he glanced down at his watch.
"A prophecy?" Harry and Ron echoed.
"Yes. In fifteen seconds, Hogwarts will be ablaze," he said coldly.
"What are you talking about? Are you joking—"
"10… 9… 8…"
"…3… 2… 1!"
The moment the countdown ended, a deafening boom exploded from the direction of the castle gates.
Christopher Patrick drew his wand at once. Harry and Ron instinctively covered their noses as acrid smoke filled the air around them.
At the same time, screams erupted from the stage.
Headmaster Winston Vance, who had just been chatting pleasantly with Professor Horace Slughorn, turned pale the instant he heard the explosion.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Vance whipped out his wand, aimed it at Slughorn, and roared.
A streak of green light tore across the stage.